Howls of Whiterun
by IHavetoPeesoBad
Summary: The Silver Hand attack a small pack of werewolves camping near Whiterun. This attack leaves many dead and unsure of the future, especially for a young wolf named Sifkni. Mini-Series. Prequel to future story. Oc-centric.
1. Bloodmoon

**Howls of Whiterun**  
Chapter 1  
_Bloodmoon_

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**A/N:** Hey, it's been awhile since I've actually written anything that will be long. I apologize for everything. This is going to be OC-centric. This has made a slight change. Howls of Whiterun will be a prequel to the main story. I need time to work on kinks and loopholes in the plot. Not that everything will move smoothly but I will definitely try. Also, let me know if I should other races other than man. I am tempted to add some Mer later on but my bias lays completely with Nords (and Orcs).

_P.S._ Thanks to my friend, Louise, for beta-reading this.

_P.P.S_. I know we learn some basics of lycanthropy throughout Skyrim and a little more of pack mentality with the Dragonborn DLC, but everything else I made up. Please feel free to correct anything you think is wrong. Do so in a polite manner. I do want to improve, but coming on too hard will break me.

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The night was young. Owls and bats slowly rose from the deep slumber and began their hunt for food. Same with the packs of wolves. The twin moons, Masser and Secunda, slowly rose from their sleep along with the skilled hunters. Both of them shining red in the night. A sign of a good harvest or of bloodshed. The thick smoke and trees burning red meant bloodshed.

Loud growls and howls were plenty and heard all the way in the sleeping city of Whiterun, though many were not awake. If they were, they thought nothing of the howls or the fire.

The Silverhand worked that night. Rumors of werewolf sightings sent them to Whiterun. Their hatred for the supposed foul creatures was infamous around Tamriel. Their prey was in sight that night and they slew many wolves and werewolves. They paraded the pelts that night at the Bannered Mare.

A young Nord wolf-ling survived the slaughter. She huddled in a secluded brush awaiting a familiar scent. Her deer skin tunic was stained with the blood, none her own. Her eyes were swollen and puffy from the tears she shed over those she watched disposed of right in front of her. Her mother lay murdered before her very eyes as she hid herself. Her mother's pelt shorn from her body. She wanted to cuddle the furless carcass of her mother but she didn't dare leave the safety of her hiding spot.

They were wolves, clearly friendly. They were pack wolves that had no need to hunt humans. Deer, elk and bear were enough for them. The only humans they ever killed were Silverhand and the occasional bandit here and there. Most pack wolves felt no need to hunt humans who kept their distance. Even if they happened to venture close, they never attacked unless provoked. They acted as hunters and traveling merchants to humans if they did venture close.

The young wolf-ling managed to fall asleep in her hiding spot. While she slept an older male wolf carried her away from what they called home. When she awoke, she first smelled a familiar scent of cloves and juniper berries mixed in with the usual dog scent they naturally carried. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She then saw the familiar figure of her father, his back facing her. She hurriedly jumped off the mossy log and hugged the man from behind. "Papa." her tiny voice was hoarse from crying. "Papa." She cries into the back of his tunic and gripped tightly. "They took mama. They took her pelt." She sniffed. "They took home...I was so scared, papa"

"Hush, my love." He loosened his daughter's grip and turned around to face her. He embraced his wolf-ling tightly, as to never let her go. "You are alive. You are with me. We are safe for now, my love." He was gentle. This male was very gentle for a wolf. He stroked her dark auburn hair. "We will make graves for everyone we have lost, my love. We will mourn with the twins tonight." He knelt down and cupped his daughter's face and kissed her forehead. "You are too young to change, my love. But you shall join us." He looked closely into her bloodshot eyes. Her eyes were much like her mothers; a nice vibrant blue, such as the sky on a cloudless day. He continued to calm her.

"Master Fjolfr." A dark skinned Redguard female walked out of the thick brush, carrying several rabbits across her shoulder. "The commotion last night scared most of the wildlife away. I was only able to secure a few rabbits for us." She sighed as she placed the rabbits on a rock near a fire pit and then settle down herself onto a log nearby.

"A few rabbits will suffice for now. Come Sifkni, let us cook these meal Rithle has graciously caught for us." He picked up Sifkni with ease and held her close. Sif continued to sniffle as she held tightly onto her father, not wanting to lose him along with her mother. "Love, you are safe. Trust me." He pried her hands from around his neck and set her down on a mossy log. "I know you were scared. You lost your mother. We lost a lot, darling. But, Ilfhil, your mother would be glad that you are well and alive." He knelt down before her and wiped away her tears. He stood up, walked over to the fire pit and started a fire. With his back towards his daughter he spoke to her, "Remember Sif. We may be wolves, but we are not dangerous to humans. There will always be good and evil in the world, no matter the race. Alright, darling?"

Sifkni nodded her head and wiped her tears. "I miss mama."

Fjolfr's back quivered slightly, "As do I, child. As do I." He continued on with his task of skinning and gutting the rabbits before cooking them. After the rabbits were placed over the fire to cook, He walked over and sat next to her daughter. "After we get our strength back from this meal and bury our loved ones, we shall move further away from Whiterun. Closer to the Pale, secluded deeper in the woods."

Rithle, the dark skinned teen, shifted on the logged. "I think others survived the ordeal, Master." She looked at the older male. His green eyes slightly red. The side of his face burned from last night. She could tell he had done his best to clean the wound, but a scar would definitely leave its place. "I did smell that Imperial whelp, Lucret, while hunting. I'm sure he will show up."

Fjolfr looked at the ground. "Yes. I'm sure others have survived. We can always recruit loners. I'm sure there are other wolves willing to join a pack." He ran his hand through his graying brown hair.

"Letting strays into the pack, may not be wise, Master. I know we are few in number, but we can still survive." Rithle stood up and checked on the roasting rabbits. "Letting them in when your daughter's first moon is upon us. It is not wise." She looked over at the small wolf-ling and smiled softly.

Sifkni shifted in her seat. She was fully aware of her first moon was approaching. She had a year or so before she would be able to run and howl with the pack. She was excited and scared at the same time. She knew very well that some wolf-lings lost themselves in the change. She feared she would harm her father. She looked at Rithle and then to her father. "Papa. It would be more fun with wolves around."

Fjolfr nodded and ruffled her hair. "I believe so as well. But, as Rithle said your first moon is approaching. We need to be wise about who we let in. We can make that compromise, yes Rithle?" He looked at her with his green eyes.

Rithle looked down. She knew well who was the alpha of the pack. She knew he wasn't asking a question. He was questioning her position. "I apologize. I worry for Sifkni. Having rogue wolves around her first moon so near. I fear what they may try." She looked up at her master. His gray eyes piercing through her very soul.

"Very well. I will think about your worries. For now, we should find Lucret and a few others who've survived." Fjolfr checked on the cooking rabbits.

The three wolves sat in silence. The air heavy with the previous conversation. Rithle and Fjolfr ate the rabbit. The young wolf-ling refused to touch the rabbit. The burnt flesh reminded her too much of the previous night and she felt uneasy. Fjolfr noticed but said nothing. She was young, but she would eat in time and though she needed the nourishment, he wasn't going to force something so cruel upon her.

After the older wolves finished the rabbits, they made a makeshift shelter out of fallen wood and pine branches. Fjolfr laid out a deer pelt atop some dried grass. "Sifkni. You should rest here while Rithle and I find others and gather bodies."

Sifkni looked at her father and nodded hesitantly. "I want to come with Papa." She walked up and grasped his hand firmly.

Fjolfr knelt down and pet his daughter's head. "I know you would. But I need a capable young wolf to stay and watch this camp. Do not worry, my love. We will be back in a few minutes to check on you." One final pat on her auburn locks and Fjolfr took off into the woods, shifting into a black werewolf before disappearing amongst the brush. Rithle followed suit in her brown werewolf form.


	2. Quarrels

**Howls of Whiterun  
**Chapter 2  
_Quarrels_

**A/N:** Thank you for the support. It means a lot. Even if I did not respond, your messages mean a lot. Also, I'm aware that Sifkni might be, what's the word, too fast through the grieving process right now. I'm going to have that correlate with future events. I'm trying my hardest to keep my face into this story and write at least a few lines everyday in the journal I keep for it. I cannot make promises for fast updates though. Any (polite/soft) critique is welcome. Coming on too strong will make me revert to my anxious self and I'll refuse to write even for myself. I want you guys to enjoy my story, I want to improve, but I break so so easily.

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Sifkni sighed heavily and sat down on the mossy log again. She wished she could turn into a wolf already. But most wolves didn't transform until they hit puberty. She was getting close. She knew; her mother had taught her the signs. She was ready but also feared it. She heard stories of wolves losing themselves on their first moon. Even if they had experienced parents or members to guide them, they still lost themselves. She feared what would become of her, or if she would injure anyone in the process.

She stood up, entered the makeshift shelter and lay down in it. She knew she should sleep, but being a wolf meant little benefits from actually sleeping. She was still young and could experience rest unlike the rest of the pack. She had seen many days where parents were fatigued even though she slept next to them. She also worried what it would be like to fight urges to change. Most pack wolves had great control over when they transformed. This was obviously harder on a full moon, but nonetheless, they were able to control themselves.

Would she be able to control herself on her first change? If she did, would it transforming come easier? What about controlling the transformation? She feared not being able to control the transformations.

Especially if she was in close contact with humans. Even though some man and mer disliked wolves, like her father said good and evil existed despite the race. She liked living in the pack, but she wondered how it would be living amongst man. The thought of them hurting wolves pained her.

Time stood still while her father and the Redguard searched for Lucret. She had decided it best to sleep for awhile. Sifkni rolled on her side and closed her eyes. She rested for a few minutes, until a familiar scent hit her nose. She stood up and saw a dark brown werewolf hunched over the rabbit. His fur singed in places or blood caked on in other places. He ate the rabbit ravenously, as Sifkni walked over. She touched his shoulder and ran her fingers through his fur. He shuddered at her touch. "Papa amd Rith are looking for you, Luc." She rested her head on his shoulder.

The wolf transformed back into a man. He moved away from the wolf-ling, grabbed pants from the makeshift shelter, and out them on. Sifkni looked away. "They'll be back soon." He sat down on the mossy log; Sifkni sat down next to him and leaned against him. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Ilfhil." He looked at the young girl and wrapped his arm around her.

Sifkni wrapped her arms around his bare chest and held him close. "I..." She sniffed slightly. "It's not your fault. I couldn't do anything either..."

Lucret petted her head and sighed. "Don't blame yourself, alright? If anyone's at fault it's the silver hand." He let go of Sif and stood up. "We'll get our revenge."

"I'll have no talk of revenge, Luc." Fjolfr walked out of the brush. "Regrouping is our priority. Revenge is not needed."

Lucret turned and faces the alpha. His face was red with anger. "They destroyed our home. Killed most of our pack. They murdered Ilfhil in front of Sif. They need to pay."

Fjolfr stared at the young imperial wolf. "You'll do well to listen to me, boy." He calmly said. "Revenge will only continue the cycle. We do not need to endanger our pack further." He straightened up and narrowed his eyes.

Lucret bit down on his lip and continued to stare his alpha. He clenched his fists and waited for the oppurtunity to strike at the older wolf. He didn't understand why Fjolfr remained so calm. His mate was murdered. His daughter nearly killed. Their home was destroyed and gone. Most of their families and friends dead. Their bodies maimed or burned beyond recognition. The Silver hand disgraced their territory. They murdered his pack and yet. Yet, this nord wished to move away. Lucret suffered through enough of this cowardice.

Fjolfr stared down Lucret. He hoped that the boy would back away. He challenged him. He had the nerve to challenge his own alpha right after this brutal attack. The position was being challenged by an immature whelp. Fjolfr greatly underestimated Lucret's pain.

Lucret charged at the alpha. His fist directed towards the nord's face, particularly at the burned side. The older wolf easily sidestepped the blow. He didn't raise his fist to fight Lucret. Lucret fumed because of Fjolfr's decision to not raise his hands and fight. Lucret continued to attempt to land a blow. He growled every time he missed.

During the commotion, Sifkni watched intently. She was to become the next Alpha; she needed to watch this fight through the end. Rithle, however, thought it best that a young wolf not see the fight. Sifkni looked at her intensely. "I have to watch, Rith." Rithle let go of the young wolfling's arm she once held.

Fjolfr had had enough of the imperials antics. The alpha raised his arm and pressed it against the young wolf's throat. The Nord easily pushed Lucret into a tree, where he continued to press his arm against his throat. "This is enough, Lucret." The younger wolf growled deeply and grabbed ahold of the alpha's arms. He dug his claws into Fjolfr's arm, drawing blood. He struggled in vain the large nord.

After a few minutes of struggling, Lucret gave up. Fjolfr backed away. Lucret rubbed his throat and then ran into the forest. Fjolfr sighed heavily and sat down on a log. "That damned imperial whelp." He massaged his bleeding and throbbing arm.

Sifkni walked over and knelt in front of her father. "Does it hurt, papa?" She reached out and wiped away the pooling blood. Fjolfr smiled slightly and put his other hand on his daughter's head.

"I'm fine, love." He ruffled her hair and sighed. "Rithle can you go watch him? He'll eventually come back, but I want to make sure nothing happens." Rithle nodded and ran after Lucret.

"Sif. Please don't be swayed by the thought of revenge, okay?" He continued to pet his daughter's head. "The silver hand did bad things, but revenge is not going to bring back Ilfhil, or the others, nor our home. All it'll do is eat away at you, until all you think about is revenge."

Sif nodded. "Okay, papa." She scooted between his legs, rested her head on his stomach and wrapped her arms around him.

Fjolfr continued to pet his daughter's head, lulling her to sleep. Once she was asleep, he picked her up, placed her in the shelter, and covered her up with a pelt. He sat down in the shelter and continued to pet her head. After a few minutes, he stood up, walked over to the log and sat down on it. He buried his face into his hands and sighed. "I don't know what I'll do Ilfhil." He looked up at the cloudless sky; the sun was setting and the sky turning dark blue. "I wanted you to help Sifkni through her first moon. I don't know if I can do it." He took a deep breath and continued to think about his late mate and his daughter.

Sifkni woke up the next morning. The sun rose up above the mountains. She stood up and walked over to the dwindling fire. Rithle woke when she heard movement; she was on watch and fell asleep once morning began. Sifkni sighed when she sat down.

"Master is out. He said he was getting supplies from the khajit caravans." Rithle said drowsily. "We he returns we are moving closer to the pale." The redguard raised her hands and stretched out her stiff shoulders.

"What about Lucret?" The wolf-ling tilted her head towards the redguard and shifted in her seat. She poked the dying fire absentmindedly while waiting for an answer.

"He is with master. He returned on his own and made amends with your father." Rithle stood up and sat down on the log instead of the dirt. She braided her own hair whilst she talked. "We also buried the dead while you slept."

"Oh..." Sifkni looked away from Rith and stared at the fire.

"You're too young to have seen this." Rithle sighed and stood up. She walked over to the young wolf and sat down next to her. "Like Master says, no matter the race, there's good and evil everywhere." She ran her fingers through the nord's tangled, auburn hair and began to braid it.

"I know. We're not bad. The silver hand think they're not bad." Sif turned to face the other woman. Her eyes were puffy and still red from her crying. "Papa was talking about not taking revenge."

Rithle pulled Sif closer. "Yes. Don't. It'll just add wood to the fire. Continuing the cycle." She ran her fingers through young wolf's hair. "Let's just live our life out here without interfering with others okay?"


End file.
